


Priorities

by Hot_elf



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Challenge Response, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-04 14:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hot_elf/pseuds/Hot_elf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Answer to a CDMA challenge. Short ficlets about Natia Brosca and Bann Teagan, and whatever prompts the monkeys throw at me. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in response to a CMDA challenge to a set of prompt including two DA characters, a place and a question: 
> 
> Characters: Herren & Bann Teagan  
> Place: Under a stone bridge over a raging river in a rainstorm  
> Question: "Did he wrangle your nugs?"
> 
> And no, it wasn't easy to come up with a coherent story... ;-)

**Part 1:**

Teagan cursed under his breath. The rain was really pouring down now, and the high stone arches of the bridge crossing the Hafter were the only thing offering some semblance of shelter. Or they would have, if most of the space under them hadn't been taken up by a huge oxcart and a sour-faced weapon-smith's assistant.

Why had he ever agreed to do this? Teagan sighed. It was a purely rhetorical question. He'd never been able to deny Natia any of her wishes, not since that night at Redcliffe when she had knocked on his door and slipped into his bed, a bright smile on her tattooed face.

So when she had asked him to accompany Herren to Denerim to pick up a shipment of leather for Master Wade and bring it back to Vigil's Keep, his protest had been feeble at best.

"I'm not a bodyguard, my little gemstone. Can't anybody else-"

"Oh, Teagan, please." She had snuggled up close to him, her broad hips grinding into his crotch, wearing away the last bit of his resistance. "Half my Wardens are down with the flu, and we really, really need the new armour. I promise I'll make it up to you."

* * *

So now here he was, raindrops trickling down his back under his jerkin, the swirling waters of the Hafter steadily rising at his feet, while behind him the precious shipment was safe and dry.

"Blight it, Herren, I'm getting soaked! Can't you push that cart aside at least a little bit?" Teagan prided himself on his peaceful nature and his self-restraint, but the urge to throttle Herren was growing by the minute.

"I'm sorry, Bann Teagan, but this is absolutely impossible." Maker, how that nasal voice grated on his nerves. "This is the finest calfskin from the Anderfels, cured and prepared exactly to Master Wade's specifications. I can't let it get spoiled in the rain."

Teagan raged and fumed, but Herren wouldn't budge. And the rain showed no sign of letting up. They would have to spend the night down here.

* * *

When the morning sun rose, Teagan was thoroughly miserable. He had tried to get some sleep, curled up against a stone pillar in his damp bedroll, but Herren's snores had kept him awake. The man had spent the night sprawled on top of the leathers, ostensibly to make sure they kept dry.

They set out toward the Keep again, but the oxen moved at a placid, leisurely pace. Teagan's rage at Herren was the only thing that kept him from freezing. They hadn't got very far, when they heard hoof-beats on the road ahead, and two ponies and a horse came into view. It was Natia, accompanied by Anders and Sigrun.

"Teagan!" She threw herself into his arms with a happy squeal, ignoring his angry scowl. "What took you so long? We've been waiting for you."

He glanced over at his travelling companion, a frown on his face. "Herren insisted we spend the night under the old stone bridge."

Natia looked at him, clearly puzzled by his testy tone. "But why? And why are you so angry at Herren? What did he do! Did he wrangle your nugs?"

"Did he what?" Teagan stared at her, his face a picture of confusion.

Sigrun was trying very hard not to laugh. Herren, too, seemed to be familiar with the term, judging from the dark pink blush spreading from his ears down his cheeks.

"Whoops. Never heard that before? It's what we dusters say when... Ah, never mind. It's probably better if you don't know."

Natia reached up to ruffle his hair affectionately, and he threw her a dark glance.

"Come on." She got on tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "Let's get back to the Keep and draw you a nice, hot bath. Then, if you're still freezing, I have an idea or two that will warm you up."

Teagan sighed and followed her with a weary shake of his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay mad at her for long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For part 2, I kept Natia and Teagan. Prompts were a place, an object and a question:  
> Characters: Natia and Teagan  
> Place: The Vigil's Keep Kitchen  
> Object: An erotic Qunari sculpture  
> Question: "Are you sure this can fit in there?"  
> Lovely art by chenria.

**Part 2:**

Teagan stretched and yawned softly. When they had returned to the Keep a few hours ago, he had sunk gratefully into a tub of steaming water and let it soak away the aches and pains in his poor sleep-deprived body. Warm and relaxed as he was, it had only taken him moments to fall asleep afterwards.

Now, however, with the worst of the exhaustion passed, he could focus on the decidedly more agreeable things Natia's mouth was doing to him down there. Smiling down on the thick, bushy mass of hair on her head, he was about to pull her up into a kiss, when a loud growl sounded from the direction of his stomach.

Natia's giggle caused interesting vibrations, making him shiver, but a second growl soon followed the first, and to his regret, she let him go with a sigh.

"We'd better get you something to eat first. Wouldn't want you to faint before I'm done with you."

They headed to the Keep's kitchen, deserted at this time of the day, when the breakfast rush was over and lunch still a few hours away. Fortunately there were plenty of leftovers, and soon they were settled on a wooden bench near the fireplace, tucking in happily. Natia didn't mind having a second breakfast either.

His first hunger sated, Teagan picked up an oddly shaped turnip from the kitchen table. An impressive heap of vegetables was waiting to be chopped for today's stew.

"You know, this reminds me of an erotic Qunari sculpture Isolde and Eamon got as a wedding present."

Natia eyed the deformed root curiously. There were several strange protrusions all over it. Some of them looked a bit like horns, it was true, but she failed to see...

"Turn it around a bit, like this." Teagan moved the vegetable carefully.

"Oh... Oh?" Natia swallowed. "But how-"

"Of course, to get the proper effect..." Teagan reached for another turnip. "You need to imagine the female like this..." He arranged the second root carefully at an interesting angle to the first.

Natia giggled. "Oh my. That looks intriguing. But are you sure this can fit in there?"

Teagan blushed briefly. "Not really, no. I've never tried this, actually."

Natia grinned broadly. "Well, then there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Teagan rolled his eyes as she dragged him up to her room. This promised to be an interesting afternoon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natia and Teagan (with a dash of Zevran)  
> Place: The Grand Oak's clearing  
> Object: A corrugated washboard.  
> Question: "How does it open?"

**Part 3:**

Natia bit back a particularly colorful Dusttown curse when she stumbled over an object half-hidden in the long grass. They had taken a shortcut through a little copse on their way back from Amaranthine, but she really wasn't dressed for trudging through the shrubs.

"Ancestors' hairy- What is this?"

She dug out the thing that had left a nasty scrape all along her lower leg.

"Let me see." Teagan inspected the object with a curious frown, while Anders cast a quick healing spell. "It's hard to tell what with it being so rusty, but it looks like..."

"A washboard." Throwing a grateful glance at the mage, Natia stretched and grinned. "You know, the weird thing is... This is the second time this has happened to me."

Teagan raised a disbelieving eyebrow and she laughed.

"It's true, honestly. The first time was in the Brecilian Forest, during the Blight." Natia briefly closed her eyes as she recalled that memorable afternoon.

 

 

* * *

She was scouting ahead with Zevran when they came to a clearing and she scraped her leg on what turned out to be a rusty old washboard, hidden in a large cluster of ferns under a tree.

" _Brasca_! What is this, _cara_?" Zevran sounded concerned.

"A washboard. It's used for-"

"I know what a washboard is, my sweet Warden." He rolled his eyes at her. "But while I'll admit I'm curious how it ended up here, it's your leg I'm worried about."

In a flash, he knelt down at her side and began to apply a poultice to the scratch. It didn't take him long to deal with such a minor wound. When he was done, his hand lingered on her calf, gently caressing her pale, soft skin.

"You really have lovely, shapely legs, my dear," he purred, moving in closer and brushing his lips against her throat.

"Mmmhmmm, Zev, what are you doing?" Natia tried to fight the pleasant lassitude that threatened to overcome her. He felt so good, and his hands were so soft... And Teagan was far away in Redcliffe, busy with political intrigues and ploys.

Zevran was breathing fast, and she could feel him hard against her thigh, his hands busy with the fastenings of her armour. "How does it open, _cara_?"

She was about to answer when a loud booming voice rang out right behind her.

"Alas, what must I here behold?  
A lusty elf who's getting bold?"

Zevran jumped back, his face pale, his arousal wilting like a daisy in the midday heat. "Ma ché... It's the tree! The tree is talking!"

Natia had to suppress a giggle at the look on his face. "The tree, Zev? Are you mad?"

"Mad with desire, 't may well be,  
my little dwarf, the elf's for thee.  
But I for one, would rather you  
would leave and find a room for two."

The booming voice rang out again, and Natia turned to see a gnarly face smile down on her, twinkling conspiratorially.

 

* * *

Natia chuckled to herself. Yes, meeting the Grand Oak had been quite the experience. A fortunate event as well, really, or she might have ended up doing something really stupid. With a smile at Teagan, she took his hand.

"Let's be on our way, love. Dinner's waiting."

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natia and Teagan  
> Objects: A bird's egg, close to hatching; dominatrix whip  
> Question: "If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?"

"Commander?" Nathaniel cleared his throat. "Could I... ask a favour of you?"

"Of course, Nathaniel." Natia smiled up warmly at her fellow warden. He might be Arl Howe's son, but as a duster she knew better than to judge people by their parentage. She liked him, and his broody demeanour hadn't deterred her from trading lockpicking tricks and dirty fighting moves with him. "What is it?"

"When you took over my father's suite, what happened to his things?" Seeing her curious expression, he hastened to elaborate. "There was something in there... a book belonging to my mother. I... would like to give it to Sigrun."

Natia exchanged a tender look with Teagan who was tucking into his breakfast opposite her. "For Sigrun, eh? Sure. It's all up in the attic, I believe. Feel free to look around. I'd like to tag along, if I may."

"Me too." Teagan looked eager, and she remembered his fondness for old books. "Those old attics are treasure troves."

The attic rooms were cool and quiet. Dusty cobwebs brushed against their faces, and a fresh breeze blew in through a broken windowpane.

"Look at this!" Natia exclaimed, her eyes round with wonder. "Are those pigeon eggs?"

On top of a crate, a few dead leaves and chunks of moss were loosely arranged into a nest containing four tiny pale blue eggs.

"Let me see." Nathaniel held her back by her sleeve. "No. Those are robin eggs. Careful! Don't disturb it. Look, they are close to hatching already."

"How can you tell?" Natia sighed. "Never mind. It's a surfacer thing, I guess."

They quickly spread out, pulling out crates and chests and trying to find some sort of order in the chaos.

"Natia!" Teagan's voice sounded jubilant. "Look at this!"

He had opened a large wooden crate and found a set of books bound in dark red leather. Natia bowed down to decipher the writing on the spines.

"Bridge over a Raging River, I Am a Large Stone, The Sound of Tranquillity..." She grabbed the last book and randomly opened a page. "If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?" She looked up at Teagan, genuine bafflement on her face. "What is this?"

Teagan was positively beaming. "The complete works of Paulus Artemides. One of the greatest philosophers Thedas has ever known. This is a marvellous find, my little gem."

Natia shook her head and opened the crate next to it. "Feathers?" She frowned and rummaged further. "Chains, and... is that a whip?"

"Let me see." Teagan glanced over her shoulder. "Oh. Oh my. This is quite the collection."

A blush had spread over his cheeks, and Natia couldn't resist inspecting the contents of the crate more closely. "It doesn't look like a riding whip. Maybe it's meant to be used on dogs."

"I don't think so." Teagan was blushing even more furiously now.

"What is it?" Nathaniel had come over, drawn by their exclamations. "Oh, Maker. You have found his toys."

He had grown pale, and Natia quickly shoved the crate away. "Don't worry, Nathaniel. Have you found what you were looking for?"

He nodded, shaking his head as if to dispel a ghost. "Yes, it's... It's here." He held up the slim volume of poetry for her to look at. "Thank you, Commander. This means a lot to me."

"You're welcome." Natia smiled back warmly. "Come on, now. Time for second breakfast."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natia and Teagan  
> Objects: a barrel of pitch; ancient Dwarven carving  
> Question: "What's the magic word?"

**Part 5**

Natia was worried. Not about their mission or about the darkspawn. No, she was worried about Teagan. The Deep Roads weren't a place for anyone but dwarves and Wardens, yet he had insisted he wanted to come along. All because Sigrun had mentioned an ancient Dwarven stone carving she had seen on her last patrol.

His eyes had lit up with interest. "And those carvings show dwarves playing wallop? You're absolutely sure of that?"

Sigrun had shrugged. "That's what it looked like. They had the mallets, the balls..."

Teagan cooed with delight. "What a find! This could be conclusive proof that the Orlesians didn't, in fact, invent the game as they always claim. I have to see this for myself, Natia."

So here they were, making their way through damp, dark tunnels. With a sigh, Natia dipped her torch into a conveniently placed barrel of pitch and lit it, raising it high above her head to light the vaulted subterranean hall they had just entered.

"You know," Nathaniel was muttering behind her, "I'll never understand why your people insist on such high ceilings. It's not as if you need the headroom-" He broke off and bit his lip when Natia and Sigrun threw him identical glares.

Teagan was examining the walls with the help of his own torch, until he suddenly cried out, his face shining with excitement. "Natia, look! That must be it."

The carving he was illuminating showed a rectangular playing field with several young, well-built dwarves who were hitting a ball with large mallets. To the side of the field, some pretty dwarven girls were... _dancing_? It was hard to make out in the dim light.

"What is that in their hands?" Natia shook her head incredulously. "It looks like-"

"Pom-poms." Sigrun had joined her. "Well, we certainly never had so much fun while _I_ was living in Orzammar."

Teagan ignored them. "We have to take this with us, Natia. I need to study it more extensively, in the daylight."

"Take it with us? You mean, as in somehow remove it from the wall and then carry it up all the way to the surface? You can't be serious!" Natia was staring at her beloved.

"Of course I am," he replied absent-mindedly, running his hand over the carving's outer edge.

Natia sighed. "Of course you are. Well, then. What's the magic word?"

"Please?" There was no way she could resist his puppy eyes.

Fortunately, the stone tablet came off with surprising ease and they made their way back, Teagan wheezing heavily under the weight of the carving.

When they arrived at the Deep Roads' entrance, they were greeted by warm sunlight and a familiar infectious laugh.

"Oh my. Teagan, I can't believe you actually fell for it. Sigrun, you are magnificent." Anders was grinning from ear to ear.

"What do you mean?" Teagan frowned.

"Well, I thought the pom-poms were a dead giveaway, to be honest, but she insisted." Anders couldn't hold back his laughter at the expression on Teagan's face and Sigrun was grinning openly now.

Natia looked from one face to the other, the corners of her mouth twitching suspiciously. "You mean..."

Anders nodded and they collapsed on the ground in shared laughter. "Best feastday prank ever!"

 

 


End file.
